


Turn Back the Hourglass

by RegalStarlight



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/F, Swan Queen Week, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-04-06 17:12:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4230057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RegalStarlight/pseuds/RegalStarlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma Swan is a famous but lonely Auror who was found as a baby with a time turner around her neck. Regina Mills is a former dark witch who was banished to the muggle world as punishment for her crimes. Everyone thinks they were the worst of enemies, the “Savior” and the “Evil Queen”. But the truth is a bit more complicated, and everything changes when Henry gets his Hogwarts letter and reunites his mothers for the first time in over a decade. Harry Potter AU, Swan Queen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**31 Years Ago**

A little boy found the baby on the side of the road, wrapped up in a white blanket with a name embroidered on it in purple yarn: Emma. She was barely a day old, pink-faced and trembling with cold, and around her neck was a necklace with a strange hourglass pendant.

* * *

 

**Present Day**

Regina had known this day was coming. Dreaded it with every fiber of her being. She had begun to suspect when he was only five years old and a broken toy had suddenly been fixed, without any explanation, surprising Henry as much as her. But if there had been any doubt, it had been erased when a pile of broccoli had disappeared – literally disappeared – off of seven-year-old Henry’s plate. Her son was a wizard. And Regina couldn’t be more disappointed.

She had expected his Hogwarts letter. What was a surprise was a very pregnant Snow White knocking on her door the morning of Henry’s 11th birthday. Her jaw dropped as she opened the door and saw who was there.

“You.”

Snow smiled awkwardly. “Yes, me.”

“Would you mind telling me what you’re doing here?”

“Would you mind telling me how you managed to adopt a magical child?”

Regina’s heart sank. Of course. Sighing, she beckoned for Snow to follow her into the house.

“I don’t suppose you’d like a glass of apple cider?”

“After what the last apple I took from you did?” Snow huffed, sitting down on the couch. “I don’t think so. Now, tell me. Did you know who he was when you adopted him?”

“No, of course not.” Regina shook her head, seating herself across from the other woman. “Do you think I wanted this? For my son to join a world that I can’t … that I can never be a part of again?”

Snow shrugged and tilted her head curiously.

“So you don’t know who his birth mother is, then?”

Again, Regina shook her head. “It was a closed adoption. But from that look on your face, I take it you know?”

“Emma Swan.”

That one name was enough to make the floor drop out from under Regina. No. It wasn’t possible. The Savior didn’t have a son, and even if she did, what were the odds that Regina would end up adopting him?

“So you’ll be taking him, then?” Regina said coldly.

“Just to shop for school supplies,” Snow replied. “Sorry, it’s just, I teach at Hogwarts now, so they sent me because …” her voice trailed off awkwardly.

“Because I can’t go to Diagon Alley,” Regina finished. “Or anywhere in the Wizarding World. I know the meaning of the word ‘banished’, Snow.”

Snow had the nerve to smile at that, but it wasn’t a mocking smile. Maybe Regina would have seen it that way at one time, but the last 11 years had changed her in ways that no one – least of all Regina – could have expected.

“He’s still your son,” Snow said softly. “You’re not going to lose him, you know?”

“And that’s where you’re wrong,” Regina sighed. When the other woman opened her mouth to speak again, Regina cut her off. “I don’t need a hope speech, Snow. I know better than to believe in them.”

* * *

 

When Henry came home from Diagon Alley, he pulled away from Regina’s embrace and looked up at her with a glare on his face, and she knew that she had already lost him.

“You lied to me,” Henry said in an accusatory tone.

“Henry …”

“You said you were my mother.”

“I am!” Regina tilted Henry’s chin up and made him look her in the eye. “I _am_ your mother, Henry. Whatever that woman told you …”

He pulled away from her touch. “So I’m not adopted, then?” When Regina made no reply, he continued: “Snow White told me, you know. About what you did to her, and about my real mom …”

“ _I’m_ your real mother!” Regina insisted. “The woman who gave you up didn’t want you. She’s not your mother. I’m the one who raised you. I love you, Henry.”

“No you don’t.”

His harsh words cut at her heart. Suddenly her knees were too weak to stand on, and she sank down into the sofa, choking back tears.

“They call you the Evil Queen, don’t they?” Henry demanded, and she realized that he was crying, too. “You did awful things … someone like you can’t love anyone. But my real mom is the Savior. She defeated you.”

Yes, of course, that was what history would remember. The tender kisses, the shared dreams, the love they once felt for each other and the heartbreak and betrayal, all that meant nothing now. They were simply the hero and the villain, the victor and the vanquished. And everyone knew which side got to write history.

“Henry, please …”

But he ignored her and stormed away up the stairs, and she was left to collapse into tears. What a fool she had been, to think that she could have this. Happiness. Someone to love. She should have known it couldn’t last. Wasn’t the makeshift ring on her finger proof of that? Her mother’s voice echoed in her head, but she tried to push the hated words away.

She had to pull herself together, though. So she wiped away her tears and headed into the kitchen to make dinner. It was almost therapeutic for her, layering noodles and sauce and cheese into the perfect lasagna, with just a dash of red pepper to give it some kick. It was labor-intensive and took hours to make, but she had found – to her surprise – that she actually enjoyed cooking the muggle way.

When the timer finally beeped, she pulled it out of the oven and hurried up the stairs, calling for her son.

“Henry! Dinner’s ready. I made lasagna!”

There was no response. He must still be angry with her, she realized. Hesitantly, she knocked on his door.

“Henry, I know you’re upset, but you need to come and eat something, okay?”

Still nothing. A horrible thought formed in her mind as she turned the doorknob and peeked into the room. The window hung open, and a rope made of bedsheets dangled down the side of the house. Henry was gone.

* * *

 

Far away, in a little apartment in London, the head of the Auror office poured herself a glass of wine and slumped down into her favorite chair. It had not been a good day at work, to say the least. Not only had the criminal she was chasing turned out to be far more dangerous than anyone expected and badly injured one of her fellow Aurors, but on top of that, he had disappeared without a trace just when they thought they were about to capture him. The only thing that saved this day from being a total disaster, Emma thought to herself, was that the wine was good. And with that, she took another swig and tried to forget about work.

Thinking about other things didn’t help, either, though, because thinking about work had taken her mind off what today actually was: the 11th birthday of the child she had given up.

He would be Hogwarts-age now, she realized, if he was a wizard. She wondered what House he would be in and whether he would play Quidditch and what his favorite subject would be. But that was silly thinking. She gave him up in a closed adoption through a muggle adoption agency. Whatever path his life took, she would never know.

As she reached into her pocket and pulled out the little hourglass that she was found with as a baby, she wondered if her own parents were out there somewhere, wondering what had become of her. Doubtful. The muggles who found her hadn’t recognized the Time Turner for what it was, but she had discovered it at the young age of eight, when she had turned it over in her hand and suddenly been transported back in time an hour. Wherever – or whenever – her parents were, she doubted she would ever find them.

All of a sudden, a knock on the door jerked her out of her thoughts. She rushed to open it. Outside was a boy, about ten or eleven years old, dressed in muggle clothes.

“Can I help you?”

“Are you Emma Swan?” the kid asked.

“Yeah, who are you?”

“My name’s Henry. I’m your son.”

And with that, he ducked under her arm and into the apartment, ignoring her protests that she didn’t have a son. No matter how much she might have wondered about the child she had given up, actually meeting him was a different matter entirely.

“All right, kid,” she said with a sigh. “I need you to tell me how you found me and what you’re doing here.”

The little boy – Henry – reached into his backpack and pulled out a letter written in green ink and an envelope stamped with the Hogwarts seal.

“I got this today,” he said. “The lady who came to bring it to me, Snow White, she told me all about you and what a great hero you are. Is it true they call you the Savior?”

Emma folded her arms, suddenly put on edge by his use of the unwanted title. “So that’s why you’re here? To meet your famous birth mother?”

“No, I’m here because I need your help,” he protested. “My mom is evil!”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” said Emma.

“She is!” Henry was frantic now. “Today I heard someone call her the Evil Queen! She’s been lying to me my whole life!”

The Evil Queen? Those three words shocked her even more than Henry’s declaration that he was her son had. She flinched involuntarily at the title she hated as much as she hated her own.

“Hang on a second,” she said. “Regina Mills is your adoptive mother?”

Henry nodded fervently. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! My mom is evil!”

Emma sighed and shook her head. He was eleven years old, she thought. Of course he would see the world in black and white. But the woman she remembered was so much more than just evil, no matter how tragically their story had ended. She had said that she never wanted to see Regina again, but that was more than a decade ago.

“All right, kid,” she said. “Let’s get you home.”

* * *

 

Regina came running down the front steps of a little house on Storybrooke Avenue and tearfully embraced her son.

“Henry! Where have you been?” she asked frantically.

“I found my real mom!”

Emma cringed at the boy’s harsh words as he stormed off into the house. Regina looked from the slamming door to Emma, and all of a sudden their eyes met and Emma was looking into a face she had never thought she would see again. Twelve years later, both of them twelve years older, but all at once the memories came rushing back. Quidditch practice. Kissing in darkened school corridors. Holding Regina as she sobbed and drying her tears. Jets of light in the heat of battle, angry words flung like curses. The voice of a Seer pushing them to fulfill their fate-assigned roles.

“So it’s true, then?” Regina asked. “You’re Henry’s birth mother?”

Emma couldn’t quite figure out what to say, so she settled for an awkward “Hi”.

A voice in Emma’s memory whispered “I love you”, only to turn around and scream “I hate you”. But Regina’s eyes were different now. Softer. For a moment, she looked more like the kindhearted schoolgirl Emma remembered. Then she gave a wry smile.

“How would you like a glass of the best apple cider you’ve ever tasted?”

“Got anything stronger?” Emma asked with a chuckle as she followed Regina into the house.

* * *

 

Meanwhile, a man dressed in dark robes hobbled up the front steps of the Hogwarts castle, supporting himself with a cane. The doors flung open before him, and he passed through the corridors in silence. The only sound came from the portraits, who spoke in hushed whispers as they recognized the famous Seer. Finally, he arrived at his destination, an office on the second floor, and knocked on the door.

A woman opened the door and greeted the intruder with a fearful expression, covering her pregnant belly with her arms as if to protect the unborn child within.

“Rumplestiltskin,” she gasped out, taking a step backwards.

“Snow White. May I come in?”

“Why have you come here?” she demanded, stepping aside to let him enter the room.

He took a seat beside the fire and looked up at her with a creepy grin.

“Close the door,” he instructed. “No one else must hear what I have foretold.”

She nodded and did as he said. She might not like the Dark One much, but she had to respect his wishes, particularly if he was there to share one of his prophecies with her.

“That little thing growing in your belly …” he lifted his hand and pointed a finger at Snow’s pregnant stomach. “That child will be the Savior.”

Snow’s brow furrowed in confusion. His words made no sense to her.

“Emma is the Savior,” she protested. “You confirmed that yourself. How can my baby …?”

“Ah, but your baby is the Savior,” he said, his smile growing deeper. He reached into the folds of his robes and pulled out a small hourglass on the end of a chain. A time turner. Snow’s eyes grew wide with horror as she realized what he was suggesting.

“When she is born, you will send her back in time, and she will save us all. _That_ is what I have foretold.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I've had several people ask me if I'm going to be continuing this fic. The answer is yes! Sadly, I've got about a million fics I'm working on right now (OK, more like 4), and I'm not a fast writer to begin with, so I may not be able to update very quickly. But I will definitely be writing more.

Regina watched as Emma nervously placed her glass of apple cider on the coffee table. An awkward silence hung over the two women.

"When I adopted Henry, I was told the birth mother didn't want to have any contact," Regina said.

Emma nodded. "You were told right."

"And the father?"

The awkward question hung between them for a moment.

"There was one."

Regina scoffed. "Ms. Swan, I could have figured that much out on my own. Do I need to be worried about him?"

She couldn't quite keep the jealousy out of her voice as she asked that, and in all honesty, she wasn't quite sure exactly what she meant by it. Obviously, she wanted to be sure the father wouldn't swoop in and try to take Henry from her, but she also couldn't help feeling jealous that Emma had moved on and found someone else. She couldn't help wanting to fish for as many details as possible.

"He doesn't even know," Emma said.

"Do I need to be worried about you, Ms. Swan?" Regina asked.

Emma blinked in confusion, as if the question was something that would never have occurred to her.

"Oh, absolutely not," she said, shaking her head. "I just wanted to make sure he got home safe. He seems like a good kid, you know?"

Regina nodded. "He is. Thank you for bringing him home. I know I'm probably the last person you'd want to see ..."

Emma shrugged. "It was a long time ago, Regina. I've moved on. I guess you have, too."

Regina took another sip of cider and watched Emma in silence.

"You know, I never got a chance to say thank you," she finally said.

Emma raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

Regina shot her an impatient look. "You know what. If you hadn't interfered ..."

"Don't mention it," Emma said. The blonde woman's jaw clenched, and suddenly her eyes were cold. Regina wasn't sure if the anger was aimed at her or not. She had seen that same look in Emma's eyes twelve years ago and not been quite sure then, either.

"Well, I suppose you'll be heading back to London soon?" Regina asked cautiously.

Emma shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."

* * *

 

As Regina watched Emma's ridiculous yellow bug disappear around the corner of Storybrooke Ave., she couldn't help feeling a sense of loss. That was ridiculous, of course. It had been years since she and Emma had meant anything to one another, and a chance encounter wasn't going to change that.

It wasn't until later that she found the note the other woman had left on the coffee table, with a phone number scrawled onto it in familiar handwriting. She snorted and tossed it in the trash. The last thing she wanted was to stay in touch with Ms. Swan, or at least, that was what she would tell herself.

* * *

 

Up in his bedroom, Henry flipped through his new school books, eagerly reading everything that he could. Spells, potions, fantastical-sounding creatures that he had never imagined existed ... how could his mom have tried to keep this from him? His new wand (vine and phoenix feather) sat nearby, and he was itching to try out a spell or two, but Professor White's warnings echoed in his head. He wasn't allowed to use magic outside of school, and if he did, maybe they wouldn't let him go after all.

Instead, he turned his attention to _A History of Magic, New Edition_. It might have been a history book, but to him, it read like a storybook. Inside, he found stories of witches and wizards, enchantments and curses, dragons and goblins and all sorts of magical beasts, epic battles between good and evil ...

And then he turned the page, and there she was.

It was hard to recognize her, with long black hair pulled up in an elaborate, twisting hairstyle, dressed in flowing black witches' robes, and brandishing a wand, but there was something familiar at this woman in the strange moving photo. He squinted at her for a moment before it hit him. The woman shooting jets of light from her wand and snarling at the camera was the same woman who had tucked him into bed every night, cared for him when he was sick, and told him that she loved him more times than he could count. She was the same woman who made the most delicious apple pie he had ever tasted and had argued with his teacher last year when she tried to punish him for standing up to the school bully. There she was, looking every bit like she could kill someone.

And according to the chapter, she had done exactly that. She had earned her infamous title many times over. His face was covered in tears as he pushed the book away. His mother really was the Evil Queen. Even what Professor White had told him hadn't hit him as hard as seeing her in all her evil glory, listed as one of the worst dark magic users of all time.

Suddenly, he couldn't stand to stay here in this house a moment longer. He knew now that his birth mom wouldn't understand; she would just drag him back here again. But if he couldn't go to her, he needed to escape somehow, even if only for a few hours.

* * *

 

When Regina realized that Henry had disappeared once again, she sagged back against the wall and sighed. A tear trickled out of the corner of her eye. This was going to be even harder than she expected.

She had known he would leave her. Ever since she had realized he was a wizard, she had taken that for granted. She had even guessed that he would reject her. Who wouldn't, upon finding out someone they loved was a monster? But did it have to happen so suddenly? If he slowly drifted away over his years at Hogwarts, that would still break her heart, but she didn't think she could endure a summer of him trying to run away on a daily basis. Not only was it a painful reminder of his rejection, but she didn't even know that he was safe. What if he got lost and couldn't find his way back home? What if he was in danger? What if ...?

Shaking her head, she walked briskly into the kitchen and fished a thrown-away scrap of paper out of the trash can. She hesitated, her fingers hovering just above the surface of her phone. Did she really want Emma Swan to have her number, or to mistake this as some kind of invitation back into Henry's life? But what choice did she have? Who else could she turn to for help?

No one. That was the answer. So she punched the number into her phone and held it up to her ear, desperately hoping the other woman would answer.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Swan."

"Regina?"

"Henry's gone missing again. I need your help."

* * *

 

Emma found Henry sitting alone at a rundown playground with a book on his lap. She sat down beside him and glanced at the spine.

" _A History of Magic_?" she asked. "Isn't it a bit early to be reading your school books?"

In reply, he simply flipped the book open and showed her a page with a very familiar picture on it.

"Oh."

He shut the book again and put it aside, then turned to look up at Emma.

"She was evil."

Emma nodded. "She was."

"I thought when I found you, things would be different," he admitted. "That the final battle would begin."

Emma chuckled under her breath. "The final battle happened before you were even born, kid. It's all there in that book of yours."

"But ..."

"No, listen to me," said Emma. "Your mother may not be perfect, but she loves you, and she's trying her best. I want you to give her a chance, okay?"

Henry looked back at her in confusion. "But she's evil. You should know that better than anyone."

"Oh, kid," Emma sighed. "Things aren't that simple." Standing, she beckoned to him. "Come on. Your mom is worried about you, and I promised her I'd bring you home."

As they set off back toward Storybrooke Ave., Emma wondered what it would take to make Henry realize how lucky he was. She would have given anything to have a mother like Regina, former dark witch or not, instead of being passed around from one foster home to the next. He might believe that she couldn't love anyone, but Emma knew for herself how very wrong that assumption was. The glow in Regina's eyes when she talked about Henry was the same warmth that she had overflowed with as a younger woman. Emma might no longer trust her lover-turned-archenemy, but she didn't doubt for a moment that Regina loved her son.


	3. Chapter 3

_Regina waited in the shadows by the Quidditch pitch, glancing nervously over her shoulder. She pulled her school robes more tightly around her to shield herself from the cold night air. If she was caught – if her mother found out – it would mean far worse than detention, but that thought didn’t keep her from coming back again and again._

_A sudden noise caught her attention. She turned, and there he was, grinning at her. He was completely opposite what her mother would have wanted for her: a muggle-born dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, a Hufflepuff no less, with a passion for the sport that Cora only begrudgingly allowed her own daughter to play._

_“Daniel.”_

_He pulled her into a kiss, and she kissed him back fiercely. Coming up for breath, he said, “I thought we could go flying together.”_

_“If you can keep up,” she teased, glancing to the broom in her hand, a top-of-the-line Nimbus._

_“The question is, can you?” he retorted._

_“Oh, you’ve forgotten already who won our last Quidditch game?”_

_He laughed. “I think I still have a bruise from the bludger Emma Swan hit me with.”_

_Regina smiled and kissed him again._

_All of a sudden, a scream cut through the silence. They broke apart, and Regina’s eyes darted around the Quidditch pitch, searching for the source of the sound. With a quiet “lumos”, she lit the tip of her wand. There, up in the sky, a little girl was clinging to one of the run-down school brooms as it surged through the air, bucking and shaking like a wild horse determined to throw her off. She seemed to see the little light from below and screamed out for help. Without a second thought, Regina stuffed her wand back into the pocket of her robes, mounted her broom, and kicked off the ground. She soared through the air toward the younger girl. Just as she was approaching, the little girl lost her grip went flying through the air. With the skill of a chaser, Regina swerved sharply and caught the child as she fell, pulling her onto the back of her broom. The girl clung to her in fear as Regina slowly descended back to the ground._

_“You saved my life!” the little girl said breathlessly when they landed._

_Regina smiled and introduced herself._

_“I’m Snow,” the girl replied. “Snow White.”_

_Later, there was an old wizard her father’s age bending down on one knee to offer her a diamond ring. Another, simpler ring, given with the words “run away with me” and the tantalizing promise of a new life in the muggle world. A secret whispered in the dark. A flash of green light as Daniel’s lifeless body fell to the floor, and her mother’s cold voice telling her that “love is weakness”. There was anger and grief bubbling up inside her as she walked down the aisle, dressed in flowing white wedding robes, and the delicious rage of dark magic and the hatred that fueled it. But before all that came one simple spoken thought when she realized who was to blame:_

_“I should have let her die on that broom.”_

Regina woke in a cold sweat. For a moment she was still there, a sixteen-year-old girl feeling her first taste of hatred, but soon reality sank in. On shaky legs, she made her way into the bathroom and flipped the light switch, cringing at the blinding light. As her eyes adjusted, her reflection came into focus in the mirror. It wasn’t the face of the young girl she had been in her dream; she was harder, colder, fiercer, and haunted in a way that her younger self hadn't been.

The nightmares weren’t uncommon, but this one had been sharper and more vivid than the usual faded blur of pain. Had meeting Snow and Emma again after so long triggered her to remember? Or was this just a bad night? Shaking her head, she turned the lights off and went back to bed, hoping for a few hours of peaceful sleep before morning.

* * *

 

Hogwarts was quiet that morning. A month remained before the start of the school year. There was not a single student in the castle, and most of the teachers had gone for the summer as well. Most, but not all. Snow and David sat together in his office, in a heavy silence that he didn’t quite understand.

“Are you all right?” he asked, taking her hand gently.

Snow sighed. “I’m fine.”

David shook his head. “No, you’re not. You haven’t been fine for days now. What’s wrong?”

She just turned away.

“Is it Regina?” he asked. “Having to see her again … is that what’s making you so upset? You know you didn’t have to go. I could have, or one of the other teachers …”

“It’s not about Regina,” she said, cutting him off.

He didn’t believe that for one second. When was it not about Regina? His doubt must have showed in his face, because she went on:

“No, I mean it. Everything went fine with her. I think it was good for me to see her again, to have that …”

“Closure?” he suggested when her voice faltered.

She nodded. What she didn’t say, but he knew must be true, was that she didn’t quite trust anyone else when it came to her stepmother. Not even him. And how could he blame her? They might be happily married, but they had their differences, and Regina was one of those.

“I think she’s changed,” said Snow.

David doubted that. The terrifying witch he remembered was incapable of change. But he knew from experience that there was no convincing Snow of that, so he didn’t try.

“Henry seems like a good kid,” Snow continued.

“Of course he is,” said David. “He’s Emma’s. It’s in his blood.”

Snow blinked slowly, as if only just realizing something. Under her breath, she let out a bitter laugh. But whatever was going on in her head, she didn’t share it.

“Snow, what’s going on?” David asked. “Please. You can tell me anything.”

She stared at him for a long moment, as if trying to decide. Finally, she spoke:

“Rumplestiltskin paid me a visit.”

“What!?”

“He made a prophecy,” said Snow. “And he made me promise to keep it a secret, but I just _can’t_. You have a right to know. David, it’s about our child. He told me that Emma …”

“That Emma what?” David asked.

Snow reached into her pocket and pulled out a time turner on a golden chain. She glanced from the little hourglass to her pregnant stomach with fearful eyes, and he realized the awful truth.

“We’re Emma’s parents?”

* * *

 

Henry sat across from his mother at the breakfast table, eating slowly and watching her with cautious eyes. Regina looked back at him sadly, wishing there was something she could do to make him see that no matter what she had done in the past, she still loved him more than anything. It would take time for him to see that – probably more time than she would have, before he was taken away into a world that still saw her as the “Evil Queen”. But she couldn’t think of that, because if she did then she wouldn’t be able to control herself, and she couldn’t lose control. She couldn’t cry in front of Henry.

The meal was awkward and quiet, and Henry vanished into his room as soon as it was over. Regina sighed. As she sat there at the empty table, her phone rang, breaking the silence. A glance at the screen revealed only a number she had never seen before, but she answered anyway.

“Hello, who is this?”

“Regina?”

The familiar voice sent a chill down her spine. Rumple.

“How the hell did you get my number?” she demanded.

“That doesn’t matter,” he said. “I have a proposal for you, and I think you’ll want to hear it.”

Regina huffed, thinking how unlikely that sounded. “And why should I trust you?”

“Because I can give you what you want,” he replied. “For a price, of course. I need your help with something, and in return … in return, I can help you win.”

She let out a laugh. “Well, you’re a little late. Haven’t you heard? I’ve already lost.”

“That you have, dearie,” he said. “But there was a time when you hadn’t. And you and I both know that the past isn’t off limits. Not with the help of a little magic.”

* * *

 

Meanwhile, in her flat in London, Emma lay in bed, still groggy from sleep and not ready to get up yet. The taste of apple cider still lingered in her mouth, but she pushed that thought away. A chance meeting didn’t mean a second chance.


	4. Chapter 4

A knock on her door startled Regina. She flinched, dropping the knife she was holding and the apple she had been in the middle of slicing. With a huff, she went to answer the door.

“Ms. Swan, what exactly do you think you’re doing here?”

Emma stood on her doorstep, looking disheveled and completely exhausted. As if summoned by the sound of his birth mother’s name, Henry came running down the stairs to greet her.

“Hey, Emma!”

“Oh, hi, kid,” said Emma. “Look, I don’t have time to hang out right now. I need to talk to your mother.”

Regina sighed and stepped aside to let the other woman in. A few minutes later, the apple pie was forgotten and they sat in Regina’s living room, talking over steaming mugs of hot chocolate with cinnamon.

“No cider today?” asked Emma.

Regina shook her head. “It’s ten in the morning, Ms. Swan, and you’re driving. I think not.”

They sat in awkward silence for a while before Emma started talking abruptly. “You know, not all muggles are okay with magic. When I was a kid, there was this family, and I thought they might want to adopt me, but then I started showing signs of magic. They really freaked out. Sent me back and said I was an unholy devil child.”

Regina nodded. “You told me about that a long time ago. Why bring it up now?”

“Because earlier today I was out on the job, tracking this criminal we’ve been trying to catch for ages. We think he’s been kidnapping kids, Hogwarts age and younger. I didn’t catch him, but I did save the two kids he was after. They’re twins, Ava and Nicholas Zimmer. Apparently they got their Hogwarts letters a few days ago, and their muggle mother kicked them out of the house.”

Regina stared at Emma in confusion. “Emma, that’s horrible, and I can see why it’s bothering you so much. But what exactly do you expect me to do?”

“Help me find their father.”

“What?”

Emma pulled something out of the pocket of her red leather jacket and placed it on the coffee table. It was a compass, old and cracked, and instead of pointing north, the needle pointed east, into the morning sun.

“It’s enchanted,” said Regina.

“It’s all they have left of their father,” said Emma. “He was a wizard, I know it – otherwise why would he have had a magic compass? I just need to find him. But the people at the Auror office think I should just dump the kids into the system and move on.”

“They might have a point,” said Regina. “You’re an auror, not a social worker. You have other responsibilities.”

Emma sighed. “I thought you of all people would understand why I can’t do that. Help me, Regina. Please. Help me find their father.”

She set her mug of hot chocolate back down on the table and looked at Regina with what could only be described as a sad puppy face. For a moment, Regina hesitated. Then she shook her head.

“No. I can’t.”

“What?” Emma looked as shocked and betrayed in that moment as she had all those years ago when Regina had confessed to brewing the Draught of the Living Death and using it on her step-daughter. But instead of pulling out their wands and throwing themselves into a heated battle, they just stared at each other.

“I’m not going to stop you,” said Regina. “Go find their father if you really want to.”

“But you’re not going to help me?”

Regina shook her head. Emma stood up, looking at her with resentful eyes, and stalked away. A moment later, the door slammed. Henry, who stood in the doorway, watching, looked at her with the same disappointed expression he had worn the past few weeks.

“Why didn’t you help her?” he demanded.

“Henry …”

“She’s just trying to do something good, and you wouldn’t help her.”

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s not that simple,” said Regina.

“Yes it is!” he shouted. “You’re the Evil Queen!”

Holding back tears, he turned and ran up the stairs. Regina was left with a slammed door, two mugs of cold hot chocolate, and an unfinished apple pie that she knew no one else would dare to eat.

* * *

 

Ava and Nicholas Zimmer’s dad was hard to find, and even more difficult to convince. “They’re Hogwarts age now, anyway,” he had said. “They’ll have a home, and a better one than I can give them.” But Emma had opened up about her own childhood, and reluctantly, their father – a squib from a family of wizards, who lived in the muggle world and worked as a mechanic – agreed to take the kids, during the summer vacation at least.

Mission accomplished, no thanks to Regina Mills.

So why was it that Emma found herself sitting in a muggle bar a few blocks away from Storybrooke Avenue, taking a swig of beer and trying not to think about her ex? She certainly wasn’t hoping to run into her. That wasn’t it at all.

“Hey,” said a familiar voice. She looked up and saw Regina, totally overdressed for the place in one of her sensible pantsuits, sliding into the seat beside her.

“What are you doing here?” Emma asked.

“I could ask the same, but I think we both know the answer to that,” said Regina. “I saw your car parked outside. Speaking of which, you’re going to need a ride home.”

Emma laughed. “Don’t be silly, I can just apparate.”

“Drunk?” said Regina. “I don’t think so. I’ll drive you.”

Emma complained, but after all, hadn’t she been practically longing to run into Regina when she came here? So she let Regina take the wheel and sat in the passenger seat of the other woman’s Mercedes Benz, watching her drive.

“Are you just going to stare at me all night?” Regina asked.

“Right. Sorry.”

“Look, Emma, about earlier …” said Regina

“Don’t.”

“Emma …”

“You don’t have to apologize. I know we’re not friends. I shouldn’t have come to you with my problems, you didn’t have any reason to help me, but I hoped …”

“Just shut up and listen!” Regina snapped. Startled, Emma stopped talking and stared at her. “I told you no because I was scared. I couldn’t … Emma, the terms of my sentence were clear. I can never use magic or enter the magical world again. Being in contact with you is risky enough, but going off to help find the wizard father of two Hogwarts first-years might have led right into a wizarding community. You know what the stakes are for me. I just couldn’t take the risk. I’m sorry.”

Emma’s mouth hung open. Realization dawned in her eyes. “I … I didn’t even think about that. Regina, I’m the one who should be sorry. I should have realized.”

Regina shrugged. “I shouldn’t have expected you to.”

* * *

 

When they got to Emma’s flat in London, Regina walked her up to the door. To her surprise, Emma turned and pulled her into a kiss. Regina stood there in shock for a moment, but then she pushed her away.

“You don’t want this?” Emma asked, with the sad puppy look returning.

“You’re drunk,” said Regina. “You won’t want this tomorrow morning. Now go get some sleep. I need to get home to Henry.”

Emma nodded sullenly and turned to close her door.

“Oh, and Emma?”

“Yes?”

“You'll have to come back to get your car tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I guess I will.”

“If you want, you’re welcome to stop by my house. I made an apple pie.”

It was a dangerous olive branch, not least because no sane person would accept an apple from Regina Mills. She waited nervously, expecting to be turned down. But Emma smiled.

“We’ll see,” she said. “Thank you for getting me home.”

It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no, either. As she got back in her car and started her drive home, Regina smiled to herself. She knew that hope was dangerous, but maybe – just maybe – she didn’t have to be alone.


	5. Chapter 5

Emma almost didn’t come. It was silly to think that she and Regina could have … well, a friendship, or whatever this was. But when Regina answered the door, Emma smiled at her.

“Hey,” she said. “I came to pick up my bug, and … you said you made an apple pie?”

Regina’s eyes lit up, and Emma knew she had made the right choice. They sat at the table together, making small talk and occasionally lapsing into awkward silence. The pie was delicious, and not poisoned in the least, from what Emma could tell. She wasn’t sure things would ever not be awkward between them, but this was … nice.

“Thanks for last night, by the way,” she said, gulping down a mouthful of pie.

“Well, I couldn’t let you apparate your way into the middle of oncoming traffic, could I?” said Regina.

Neither of them mentioned the kiss. That part of their relationship was long over, no matter how much they might both wish otherwise.

* * *

Later, after Emma had left, Regina’s phone rang again. Recognizing the number, she groaned and reached to press the “ignore” button. But at the last minute, she changed her mind and answered it instead.

“Rumple, I don’t want to hear any more about your plan,” she said. “I’ve already told you, I don’t want to win in a world where Henry doesn’t exist, and even if I did, I wouldn’t trust you not to double-cross me. If you want to change the past, you’ll have to figure it out on your own.”

The other end of the line was silent for a few moments.

“I’m sorry, who is this?” a woman who was definitely not Rumple asked. Regina inhaled sharply, recognizing the voice.

“Belle?”

“You’re Regina, aren’t you?” the other woman asked. “I don’t understand. Why was Rumple calling you?”

Regina sighed. “You’re a smart woman. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

“He’s doing something wrong, isn’t he?” Belle’s voice sounded heartbroken. “You said you wouldn’t help him. That must mean you know what he’s doing.”

“You should ask him,” said Regina. “Or don’t you think he’ll tell you?”

Belle let out a huff. “No. After everything you did to me, to everyone, you owe me this. Tell me exactly what he told you. Don’t leave out a word.”

* * *

A few days later, Emma found herself at Hogwarts, lurking in the entrance to Snow White’s office. She fiddled with the swan necklace she wore as she waited for the young professor to arrive. Finally, she did, dressed in snowy white witch’s robes, with her hair cut much shorter than Emma remembered it.

“Emma!” she said eagerly, embracing her. “You got my owl!”

Emma awkwardly hugged her back.

“So, um, what did you want to talk to me about?”

Snow held up a hand. “In a minute.” Turning to the door of her office, she said the password (“cinnamon”, apparently), and it slid open. “Why don’t you come in?”

Emma followed her. The office was just what she would have expected from Snow, which is to say, about one lacy doily shy of looking like it belonged to Professor Umbridge. Well, that wasn’t quite fair, Emma told herself. Even Professor White wasn’t quite that tacky. She sat down nervously and waited. Being back here at Hogwarts, she felt like a student again, anxiously waiting to see whether she would get detention or not. How bizarre, to feel that way when she and Snow had been students here together.

“It’s been a long time for you, hasn’t it?” Snow asked, as if she could read Emma’s mind.

“Yeah, being here again is kind of weird,” Emma admitted. “Not bad, just … weird.”

“You liked Hogwarts, though, didn’t you?” she said. It wasn’t really a question. Emma had loved Hogwarts. Probably every lost little boy or girl who grew up thinking they weren’t important was delighted to find out just how special they really were. She didn’t say any of that, though. She just nodded.

“So why am I here?” she asked.

“You’re here because Professor Midas has asked me to offer you a job,” she said.

Emma laughed. “Is it Defense Against the Dark Arts? Because I’ve already told you, I’d rather be out there defeating bad guys than teaching about how to do it.”

“We have Mulan teaching that,” Snow said, shaking her head. “You remember her, right? She was the year above you.”

Emma nodded.

“Professor Midas wants you to teach Muggle Studies.”

Emma didn’t even bother to laugh at that, it was so absurd.

“He wants me to give up my life’s work as an Auror to teach kids about how toasters work?” she asked. “Seriously?”

“Well, Professor Heller’s book is a bestseller now,” said Snow. “And you’d be surprised how few witches and wizards are qualified to teach Muggle Studies. You grew up in that world, Emma, you have a NEWT in the subject, and we all know you still spend more time there than among wizards. You would be perfect!”

“No,” said Emma, standing up. “I’m sorry, Snow, but teaching isn’t for me.”

She didn’t notice, as she walked away, that Snow was blinking back tears.

* * *

“She said no,” Snow said dismally. “I worked so hard to get Midas to offer her the job, and she turned it down.”

David held her in his arms. He was frowning, too.

“We knew it was a long shot,” he said. “She already has a career of her own, and she’s never shown much interest in teaching.”

“Yes, but I wanted to have her close to us,” said Snow. “To get to know her better now that we know she’s our daughter.”

“I know,” said David. “Trust me, I do. But we have to respect her choices, too.”

* * *

Meanwhile, in Muggle London, Tamara’s phone vibrated in her pocket. After a quick glance at the name, she slipped outside while her fiancé was still asleep and answered it.

“Hello?”

“It’s the Home Office. We have a new job for you.”


	6. Chapter 6

_The whole world was cold and dark. Regina could barely put together a coherent thought, let alone do anything but sit huddled in the corner, shaking and sobbing, as the hooded creatures moved outside. Visions of green light and the sound of a body hitting the ground flooded her mind._

_“Daniel!” she screamed._

_There was no way out of this cell, and even if there were, she wouldn’t have had the energy to run or hide. You couldn’t escape from a dementor anyway. She had never been able to produce a patronus._

_So this is how it ends, she thought. Eighteen years old, alone and helpless, reliving all of her worst memories while the dementors fed off her pain. Catching sight of them just outside for a second before she was back at home, a little girl sobbing because she broke her mother’s favorite mirror and being lifted up into the air with a levicorpus spell until she promised to be good._

_All of a sudden, the icy-cold panic was gone, and the vision faded into the walls of her cell. Regina looked up to see a silvery swan patronus and a familiar girl in a red leather jacket standing in the open doorway to the cell. Emma didn’t meet her eye, didn’t even acknowledge that she was there, but her presence was enough, and Regina knew she was there to save her. Even though Regina had already been tried before the kangaroo court that was the Wizengamot and sentenced to life in this living hell that was Azkaban._

_“Snow and I, we’ve convinced them to change your sentence,” said Emma. “Exile, not Azkaban. You can never use magic again, and you can never try to return to the magical world. If you do, you wind up right back in here. It was the best we could do.”_

_Even after their falling out, Emma was trying to protect her, and that had to count for something. Maybe … maybe it was just the patronus talking, but maybe they even still had a chance together. Then she saw how cold and hard Emma’s eyes were, and Regina knew she hadn’t been forgiven._

Over a decade later, Regina was jolted awake as the nightmare faded away.

* * *

 

Emma showed up at Regina’s house again the next day. It was getting to be so routine that the older woman wouldn’t have even blinked, except that her nightmare still lingered. It was so strange to see Emma Swan, the current Emma, when she couldn’t get the teenage version out of her head.

“Just thought I’d stop by and see if you have any more of that apple pie,” Emma said.

Regina smiled. It might not be much, it might not be what she had wanted all those years ago, and maybe it wasn’t even really forgiveness, but it was something.

Still, her hands shook as she cut the pie, and she picked at her slice while Emma and wolfed hers down. Henry stubbornly refused to eat his and begged Emma not to touch it, insisting that his mother’s apples were poison. But Regina had no reason to poison Emma, and certainly not Henry.

(Not that the Draught of the Living Death was a poison. It was a sleeping potion, a distinction most people didn’t care to make.)

“Hey, is everything OK?” Emma asked through a mouthful of pie. “The kid will get over it sooner or later.”

Regina shrugged. She wasn’t so sure about that, and it was hardly the only thing on her mind. Not like she was going to tell Emma about her nightmares. They might have been that close once, but that was a long time ago.

“I’m fine,” she said.

They both knew it wasn’t true, but neither of them said so. Instead, Regina listened while Emma blabbered about her Auror work, both of them laughing at the incompetence of some of the new recruits. But then her laugh faded, and she warned Regina: “Keep an eye on Henry. There’s definitely someone out there going after magical kids.”

“Of course,” said Regina. She hesitated, but she knew she needed to ask. “Will you help me? There’s not much I can do if someone with magic comes after him.”

Emma smiled and reached across the table to squeeze her hand.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “No one’s going to touch our son.”

Our son. Regina liked the sound of that.

* * *

 

Belle walked through the streets of Hogsmeade dressed in witches’ robes, with puffy eyes and trembling hands, fidgeting with the wedding ring on her finger. She let herself in through the front door of the Three Broomsticks and slumped down at a table across from a dark-haired girl dressed in muggle clothes. Reaching into the folds of her robe, Belle pulled out a small bottle of potion and placed it on the table between them.

“Wolfsbane,” she whispered. “It should be enough for the next full moon.”

“Thanks,” said Ruby with a grin. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Belle sighed and looked back down at the ring on her finger.

“Is everything okay?” Ruby asked. “You seem a bit … distracted”

Belle sighed. “I think … Rumple’s been lying to me. I found a number in his phone, and I called it yesterday.”

“You think he’s cheating on you?” Ruby leaned forward, something dangerous flashing in her eyes.

“Oh, absolutely not!” Belle sputtered. “With the Evil Queen? Rumple may be many things, but he would never sink that low. No, I wish we had ordinary problems like that.”

“You think he’s doing something wrong, then?”

Ruby didn’t say what Belle knew she was thinking: that any wizard capable of creating a horcrux was not to be trusted and that the young Hogwarts librarian was a fool for loving him, a fool for thinking he had changed.

“I want there to be an explanation,” she said. “But Regina told me what he was planning, and it was …” she shuddered. “I think I may have been wrong for thinking I could save him.”

* * *

 

Far away, in a mansion in the English countryside, the infamous seer sat at his kitchen table with a curved dagger in his hand. The name Rumplestiltskin was carved into the blade. As he stared at it, a tear rolled down his cheek.

“I made you out of fear,” he whispered. “I needed to live long enough to find my son again, and what choice did I have? But I can change the past. I can save my son and never split my soul to begin with.”

Glaring at the blade, he said in a harsh voice: “I will be free from you, dearie. Just watch and see.”


	7. Chapter 7

Only a month remained until the start of the school year. Regina didn’t want to think about that yet. It was hard enough having Henry push her away, but letting him leave would be a whole different kind of heartbreak. Would he write to her? Would he come home for Christmas? Would the other kids recognize his last name and shun him, or feed him exaggerated stories about how horrible she had been?

He had come home from Diagon Alley with a beautiful tawny owl and named him Beedle after the famous storyteller, who Snow had apparently told him about. He could write if he wanted. Regina would simply have to hope that he did, but at the moment, that seemed like a pipe dream. Things between them were still as tense as they had been ever since his Hogwarts letter came. One morning over breakfast, she tried to make conversation.

“You’ve been reading _Hogwarts, a History_ , haven’t you?” she asked. It wasn’t a question. She had seen him with it more than any other book that summer. He nodded and swallowed a mouthful of bacon.

“It’s a good book,” he said. “And I want to know everything I can about Hogwarts.”

“I’m sure you do,” she said carefully. “You’re a smart boy. You’d be a good fit for Ravenclaw.”

His smile was bitter. “I’d rather be a Gryffindor. But I’m sure you don’t want that.”

Regina dropped her fork and looked at him across the table.

“Why do you say that?”

“Gryffindors are heroes,” he said. “You were one of the bad guys. What were you, a Slytherin? Well, I don’t want to be like you.”

“Henry, I was a Gryffindor.”

Her words were soft, and she felt tears stinging her eyes, but she held them back. She wouldn’t cry in front of her son. He looked at her like he had never thought of that.

“You’re lying to me.”

She shook her head. “You can ask Emma. Or Snow. It made my mother furious, but yes, I was a Gryffindor.” His look of confusion remained, so she went on: “I made mistakes, Henry. Big mistakes. I was in pain, and I handled it in the worst way that I could have. But not all Gryffindors are heroes, not all Slytherins are evil, and there’s no shame in being a Ravenclaw or a Hufflepuff, either. It’s not so black and white.”

He was quiet for a minute, considering that.

“What house was Professor White in?” he asked.

“She was a Hufflepuff.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. “A Hufflepuff?”

“Hufflepuffs can be some of the best people,” said Regina, thinking not of Snow but of Daniel. “They’re steadfast and loyal, kindhearted, if a bit naïve, and certainly capable of being brave when they need to be. You shouldn’t look down on them.”

“What about Professor White’s husband?” he asked. “She told me a lot about him, but she didn’t say what house he was in.”

Regina stared at him for a moment, realizing he didn’t know the truth about Snow’s husband. Should she tell him? Or tell the lie that the whole world believed?

“That’s not an easy question to answer,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

Oh, this was too good to pass up. For the first time since his birthday, Henry actually wanted to talk to her. But she shook her head.

“It’s not my story to tell,” she said. She knew better than to share other people’s secrets, especially ones as dangerous as David’s true identity. She wasn’t Snow White. “You’ll have to ask him. But I could tell you other stories about the magical world, if you want.”

He smiled at her. It was a shaky smile, but a real one. “I’d like that.”

“What else do you want to know?”

He hesitated. “Can you tell me about quidditch?”

A genuine smile lit up her face. “I’d love to.” As she told him about her time as a Chaser on the Gryffindor quidditch team and remembered the way that flying could always bring a smile to her face, he listened with wide eyes. She didn’t mention Daniel. She didn’t mention that the quidditch pitch had been their special place, or that she hadn’t set foot on one since the day he died. There was no need to taint her story for Henry with such bittersweet memories.

* * *

 

When Emma came over for apple pie later, Henry ate a slice, too. It was a little thing, but it was everything to Regina.

“So how is that case going?” Regina asked. “The one you were telling me about last time.”

Emma shrugged. “Not too well. We haven’t had another disappearance for a while, but we also haven’t caught the guy, so it’s just a matter of time.”

“What case?” Henry asked, his eyes lighting up. “Is it an auror thing?”

The two women exchanged a tense look. Neither one of them wanted to tell Henry the truth, that someone seemed to be going after magical children.

“Yeah, kid, it’s an auror thing,” said Emma. “But don’t worry we’ll take care of it. That’s what I do, right? Catch bad guys.”

Henry grinned, and Regina couldn’t hold back a slight smile as well.

“Clearly, you haven’t changed,” she said. “You always did like to play the hero.”

“So did you, once upon a time,” said Emma. Regina wasn’t quite if she should take that as a compliment or an insult, but as she was still turning Emma’s words over in her head, Henry spoke up again.

“Is it true my mom was a Gryffindor?” he asked.

Emma looked at him in surprise. “Yeah, it’s true. Why?”

He shrugged.

“Let me tell you a story about your mom,” said Emma. “When we were third years, there was this bully, a couple of years older than us, and your mom found him being really mean to a first year. He called her … you know that some people in the magical world are prejudiced against people whose parents are muggles? Well, he called her a not very nice name because of that. Your mom storms over, grabs him by his tie, and holds her wand in his face. ‘Say that again one more time and I’ll hex you’, she said. ‘Don’t ever go near her again.’ Then she spent an hour trying to cheer the kid up. It was kind of sweet.”

“He ran to a professor,” said Regina. “The coward. I ended up with a week’s worth of detentions, but it was worth it.”

Henry looked at Regina with big, astonished eyes. It was a familiar look on his face, the way he used to look at her when she checked under his bed and assured him there was no monster hiding there.

“Is that really true?”

“Every word,” she told him.

* * *

 

As Emma gathered her things and got ready to leave, she paused and beckoned to Regina.

“I want to talk to you alone,” she said.

Regina followed her into the hallway. “What’s going on?”

“There’s something I need to tell you about the case,” she said. “Something I didn’t want to say in front of Henry.”

“What is it?” Regina asked.

“We’ve been looking through old records, to see if we can find anything similar. And we did. A boy named Felix disappeared about 80 years ago. A family called the Darlings a few decades ago. About a dozen other kids, a few girls but mostly boys, all within the past century, none of them ever found. There’s no way to say if there’s a connection …”

“But there could be.”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you. For telling me. I’m pretty sure this is all classified.”

Emma shrugged. “Maybe, but … well, this is Henry’s safety we’re talking about. You need to be informed.”

Regina couldn’t resist. She pulled Emma close and kissed her on the lips, half expecting her to pull away, but Emma kissed her back, blonde hair tickling her face as they hungrily explored each other’s mouths.

The sound of a throat clearing pulled them apart, and they turned to see Henry standing there, his mouth hanging open.


	8. Chapter 8

“What’s going on?” Henry asked. His moms stared back at him, clinging to each other for a moment before they stepped apart awkwardly.

“Henry …”

“Why were you kissing?” he demanded. “I don’t understand.”

He wasn’t sure which was weirder: the Savior kissing the Evil Queen, or the fact that they were his moms. But either way, it was … weird.

“Henry, a long time ago, your mom and I … well, I guess we dated,” said Emma, stumbling over her words. “Sort of.”

“She was there for me in a time when no one else was,” Regina added.

“But you were enemies,” Henry insisted.

“No, this was before that,” said Emma. “Your mother broke my heart. But things are different now. All of that is in the past, and … well …” she let her voice trail off as if not quite sure what to say.

“So you’re dating again?” Henry asked, still confused. How could they be dating?

The two women exchanged a long, awkward glance. Finally, Emma spoke.

“I’m willing to give it another go if you are.”

Regina smiled. But then she looked at her son cautiously. “Would that bother you, Henry?”

He hesitated. It was all so unexpected, so out-of-nowhere for him. The idea of his moms dating anyone was just plain weird. And although he wanted to believe that the woman who raised him was not just the Evil Queen, that was a lot different from wanting her to date the Savior. But …

“You won’t hurt each other this time?”

Both women shook their heads.

“No.”

“Of course not.”

“Do you love each other?” he asked.

That was answered by another awkward silence.

“I did,” said Emma. “Whether we can have that again, I don’t know, but I want to find out.”

Regina nodded in agreement.

“All right,” said Henry. “Then I guess I’m okay with it.”

He knew that they would end whatever this was right away if he said that he wasn’t. But he wanted them to be happy, and the smiles that lit up both of their faces were totally worth it.

“How would you like to go out to dinner tonight?” Regina asked, turning to Emma. “I know a good muggle restaurant not far from here.”

Emma grinned. “I’d love to.”

And Henry smiled, too, thinking that if his moms were going to be with anyone, they could do a lot worse than each other.

* * *

 

When Rumple came home that day, Belle was waiting for him. He could tell as soon as he walked into the living room that something was wrong.

“What did you want with the Evil Queen?” she asked, standing up and looking at him defiantly.

“Belle … what are you talking about?”

“I know,” she said. “I called the number in your phone. She told me you were planning something … something with time travel.”

“Belle, I swear, there’s an explanation.” He sat down on the couch and looked up at her with that expression she had come to know all too well. The one that begged her not to be angry.

“Then tell me,” she demanded. “Tell me everything.”

“You know what I did. How I mutilated my soul.”

Belle let out a sigh. He had made that decision long before she had first met him, and although she certainly didn’t condone it, there was really nothing to be said about it now.

“Rumple, I don’t want to hear about the dagger. As horrible as that is, I’ve known about it for years. I need you to tell me what you’re planning _now_.”

He looked up at her with tears in his eyes. “It’s destroying me.”

“What do you mean?” She sat down beside him and took his hand, unable to resist the urge to comfort him despite her anger.

“The dagger. My horcrux. I want to be free of it, Belle. If I can go back in time and alter the past, change it so that I never lost Bae and never made that wretched thing to begin with …”

Then she would never have met him, she realized. Or if she did, he would be an old man when she was just a girl. But she pushed that thought aside. If he could truly save his soul, he should do it, no matter what it meant for their relationship. But …

“Then the version you who traveled back in time will never have existed. You’ll create a paradox. I’ve read books about the theory of time travel, and horrible things happen when wizards try to change the past.”

He nodded. She could tell that he had considered that, and that it didn’t matter.

“I didn’t intend to go back in time myself,” he admitted. “I tried to convince Regina. She could have changed the past for me, and then … but she refused.”

Belle nodded. She knew that already. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

Rumple hesitated. She could see in his eyes that she was right.

“This is about the prophecy, isn’t it? A boy will lead you to your son, and that boy will be your undoing. You want to trick fate. Prevent your undoing.”

“Well, at least I’m not trying to find the boy and kill him!” Rumple’s voice broke. “I’m a coward, Belle. I have always been a coward. But I don’t want to be a monster anymore. You deserve better, even if it means we never … and my son deserves better. He would hate what I’ve become. I don’t want to die like this. Can you at least try to understand that?”

Belle felt a tear rolling down her cheek. She squeezed his hand and gave him a bittersweet smile. “I do understand. And I’m here for you.”

* * *

 

“Now remember, while I’m gone …”

“Stay inside, be good, and don’t use magic,” said Henry. “I know. Now go. Enjoy your date.”

He was smiling, and Regina still couldn’t believe how well he was taking it. Although, she figured that maybe after coming to terms with the fact that his mom was a murderer, finding out that she was dating his other mom might not be such a big deal. For the first time since she had realized Henry was a wizard, she could actually believe that all this would work out for the best. Still, she spent the entire drive to the restaurant trying to calm her nerves and failing. As she got out of her car, she caught sight of Emma, with her hair in curls, wearing a form-fitting red dress and heels. For a moment, she forgot to breathe. Then Emma saw her and waved, and Regina hurried to meet her.

“When I said it was a nice restaurant, Ms. Swan, I didn’t expect you to actually wear something other than jeans and that red jacket of yours,” said Regina by way of greeting.

Emma laughed. “Well, I just got done with a job.”

Regina raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, sometimes it works,” said Emma, apparently noticing Regina’s skepticism. “The poor guy was fooled. Didn’t even realize I was a witch, let alone there to arrest him, until it was too late. Serves him right, looking for his next victim on muggle dating sites. He’s on his way to Azkaban by now.”

Regina had to smile at that. Much as she hated to admit it, Emma Swan could be very clever when it suited her.

“All the better for me,” she said. “I get to enjoy the view without the trip to Azkaban.”

Emma blushed and smiled back at her.

“Come on,” said Regina. “Let’s go inside.”

* * *

 

Aurora took a sip of butterbeer and smiled across the table at Mulan, who to her credit didn’t seem quite as stiff and businesslike as usual today.

“School starts soon,” she commented, trying to fill the silence.

“Indeed,” said Mulan. “I take it you’re excited.”

Aurora nodded. But she must have forgotten she was still holding her butterbeer, because it splashed down the front of her robes.

“No, I’ve got it,” she said quickly when the other woman reached for a napkin. With a wave of her wand, the spilled liquid disappeared.

“It’s going to be a good year, I can tell,” said Aurora. “I love the looks on the first years’ faces when they come into the Great Hall for the first time. I’m sure you’ve already got all your lessons planned?”

Mulan nodded. “Of course. And you?”

“Don’t I always?” said Aurora. “Now, if I could just manage to convince Headmaster Midas that charms isn’t actually a useless subject.”

Mulan groaned. “Oh, not this again.”

“Do you have any idea how badly I need new supplies, not to mention a raise?” said Aurora sharply. Mulan did, of course. She hadn’t heard the end of it when the Headmaster had moved Aurora into a tiny office on the opposite side of the castle from the classroom where she taught.

"By the way, do you know if they've found a muggle studies teacher yet?" Aurora asked.

Mulan shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Well, there's not much time left before school starts."

Mulan gulped down the last of her butterbeer and sat the empty mug down on the table. “Come on,” she said. “There’s somewhere I want to go.”

They left the Three Broomsticks together and walked down the streets of Hogsmeade. They stopped in Honeydukes to buy some chocolate cauldrons and a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, before finding a place to sit down and watch the people bustling past. It was almost sunset now. Aurora reached into the bag and pulled out a greenish-white bean.

“Wish me luck,” she said before popping it in her mouth. A moment later, she let out a squeal of joy. “Mint flavored!”

Mulan pulled out a brown one. “Has to be chocolate, right?”

Aurora giggled. “For your sake, I hope so.”

A moment later, Mulan spat it out in disgust.

“Mud-flavored!” she said. But when Aurora started laughing, even Mulan let out a little chuckle.

“Oh, we are definitely volunteering to chaperone the Hogsmeade weekends,” said Aurora. “Every single one of them. I’ll never get enough of this town.”

“It is special,” Mulan agreed. “Do you remember, this was where we had our first kiss? Almost right here, in fact.”

“Well, then, let’s honor tradition,” said Aurora, planting a kiss on Mulan’s lips.

“Happy anniversary,” Mulan whispered when the kiss ended.

* * *

 

Emma and Regina’s date went by in a blur of delicious food, wine, and conversation. They reminisced about quidditch games they had played at school. Emma asked about Henry – what his favorite subjects in school were, what house Regina thought he would be in at Hogwarts. Anything to keep the conversation light. Later, once they had finished dessert and paid the bill, they made their way outside.

“I’ll see you soon, I hope?” said Regina.

“Of course,” Emma replied. “I’ll try to drop by tomorrow.”

Regina nodded and leaned forward, waiting to see if Emma would do the same. She did. The kiss didn’t last long, but the feel of Emma’s lips on hers lingered.

“Good night,” Regina whispered.

* * *

 

Regina felt like she was walking on air when she got home. But she had to frown when she saw the light in the living room on, despite the room being completely empty. One of Henry’s school books lay open on the coffee table, but that was the only sign that someone had been there. She would have to talk to him about turning the lights out when he left the room.

She made her way up the stairs, thinking that he must have gone to bed by now. After all, it was getting late. But when she peeked into his room, she found the bed made and the room empty. A sudden jolt of panic ran through her.

“Henry?” she called out. “Henry, where are you?”

She looked in the bathroom. The kitchen. The spare bedroom. She looked everywhere, calling out his name, but she couldn’t find him. He wasn’t there.

Then she saw that the back door was open. Reaching for her phone, she frantically dialed Emma’s number. The other woman answered.

“Hey, what's up?”

“Emma, I need your help,” said Regina. “Henry’s gone.”


	9. Chapter 9

Regina had been crying. That was the first thing Emma noticed when she got there. The other woman would never have admitted it, of course, but her mascara had smeared around her eyes, and a crumpled tissue stuck out of her pocket.

“I talked to Mary Margaret,” said Emma. “She hasn’t seen him. And I checked the playground where I found him before. He wasn’t there. Do you know of anywhere else he might have gone?”

Regina shook her head and sighed. “I don’t know. Emma, the back door was open. I’m not sure he left on his own.”

Emma had been afraid of that. With a grim expression, she pulled out the file from work that she had brought with her.

“I don’t want to say this,” she said. “But he fits the profile of the Child Snatcher’s victims.”

“Is that what they’re calling him?” Regina asked. “The one you told me about?”

“The Child Snatcher, the Pied Piper, Peter Pan. They call him lots of things. But we have saved kids from him before. Remember Ava and Nicholas Zimmer?”

Regina gave a nod, but the idea clearly didn’t make her feel any better.

“Listen, Regina, this is our son we’re talking about. If he’s in trouble, we will save him. I promise.”

“Okay,” said Regina, looking at her with determination. “Then I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“I need you to get me a wand.”

Emma stared at her, mouth open. A moment passed.

“No.”

“Emma, I’m not planning to go on a killing spree. I’ll need magic to save Henry. Don’t you trust me?”

“It’s not that,” said Emma, stepping closer and taking Regina by the hand. “I do trust you. I can’t believe I’m saying that, but I do.”

“Then why won’t you help me?” Regina demanded.

“You’re not supposed to use magic,” said Emma. “If we get caught, I won’t be able to protect you. And maybe a lot of people would disagree, but you don’t deserve to go to Azkaban. Not for this. Not after how much you’ve changed.”

“Emma, I would willingly kiss a dementor if it meant saving my son,” Regina told her. “Please. You and I both know it’s the only way.”

Emma sank down into the couch and nodded, choking back a sob. “All right. If you’ve made up your mind, there is a way.”

She seemed to be on the verge of tears, but Regina just looked at her expectantly. “And what’s that?”

“Henry. He brought home a wand from Diagon Alley, didn’t he? It won’t be as good as one that chooses you, but we don’t exactly have time to make a trip to Olivanders.”

Emma followed her upstairs into Henry’s room, where they found his wand lying on top of a stack of books. A strange look crossed Regina’s face as she picked it up.

“This is the first time I’ve held a wand in eleven years.”

“Yeah,” said Emma, still not looking happy about it. “I know. But don’t use it unless you have to. Neither one of us should, in fact.”

Regina nodded in agreement. “Now, what does the Ministry know about this Pied Piper?”

“It’s all classified,” said Emma, sitting down on Henry’s bed and opening up the file. “But that doesn’t matter. He appears to be a young man, a teenager, but of course that could easily be faked. He’s not really underage, or he’d still have the trace on him. He takes mostly young boys, but some girls as well, usually along with their brothers. All suspected victims are between the ages of nine and fifteen years old. Similar cases have appeared over the past several decades. Open windows are common, and sometimes open doors as well.”

Regina skimmed over the pages. One name on the list of suspected victims caught her eye.

“Baelfire?”

Emma nodded. “He’s the whole reason we know about this, really. He was an orphan, fourteen years old, staying with the Darling family when all of the children were all taken, one by one.”

Regina shook her head. “He wasn’t an orphan.”

Emma looked up at her, open-mouthed. “Do you know something?”

“I know that’s the name of Rumplestiltskin’s son.”

* * *

 

Rumple was enjoying a cup of tea with Belle when his phone rang. He glanced at the number and then muttered a quick excuse to his wife before slipping out of the room to answer.

“Regina? Reconsidering your decision?”

“Hardly,” said the voice on the other end. “I need your help, Rumple. My son’s gone missing.”

“Well, I’m sorry,” said Rumple. “But that’s hardly my problem.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” said Regina. “You see, I think my son may have been taken by one of the Ministry’s most wanted. An unknown child-kidnapper, nicknamed Peter Pan. But that’s not the best part.”

“Well, do tell, dearie,” said Rumple, unsettled by the direction their conversation was taking, but doing his best to hide it.

“He’s the same person who took your son.”

As if Rumple didn’t already know that.

“Now, the Aurors hadn’t made the connection before, but they have now. So I think it would be in your best interests to tell us everything you know.”

Rumple sighed. The words of the prophecy repeated in his mind: _A young boy will lead you to your son, but the boy will be your undoing_. A kidnapped child leading him to face his father again? That would fit the prophecy exactly.

But Bae. If he could see Bae again, maybe it would be worth it.

“All right,” said Rumple. “His name is Malcolm Gold. If you’re going to face him, you’ll need my help.”

* * *

 

“Where are you going?” Belle asked, grabbing Rumple’s arm and stopping him in his tracks. “Rumple. What’s wrong?”

He quivered beneath her gentle touch. It would be so easy to simply stay here with her and let whatever happened happen. He couldn’t do that. Still, he could allow himself a moment of weakness here first. He cupped her face in his hand and spoke softly.

“I’m going to find my son,” he said. “And I’m going to do right by him. I have a chance to stop the man who took him from me.”

Belle smiled, but it was a sad smile. “There’s a ‘but’ in there, isn’t there?”

“I may not survive,” said Rumple, unable to keep his voice from shaking. “You know the prophecy.”

Belle nodded. “But I also know that prophecies aren’t always what they seem. Rumple, let me come with you. Please.”

He shook his head and stepped back from her.

“It’s too dangerous.”

“All right,” she said with a shaky nod. “Then go. Be a hero. I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re done.”

* * *

 

Tamara was up to something. And Neal was going to find out what. She might think that he didn’t notice how she was always sneaking away, and he might not have, if he hadn’t found the list. But once he found it, hidden in a folder beneath a loose floorboard, he knew. She was a part of that world, the magical world, the world he had left and never wanted to return to. Why else would she have a list of magical children?

He told himself she worked for Hogwarts, or maybe the Ministry. If he had more sinister suspicions, he hadn’t acknowledged them. But she had been gone almost twenty four hours, and he wasn’t going to wait around anymore. He threw on a coat and headed out into the streets, determined to find her and finally get some answers.

* * *

 

A knock on the door startled Regina. Thinking that Rumple must have arrived, she went to answer it. But she hadn’t been expecting Snow and David, and she stumbled backward in shock when she saw them on the doorstep.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Emma told us Henry was missing. If you’re going to try to find him, we want to help.”

Regina sighed. The last thing she needed was to bring her least favorite wizarding family into this mess.

“We’ve got it under control. You can go.”

“No, we don’t,” said Emma, coming up behind her. To Snow and David, she said, “Thank you. This means a lot.”

The two of them followed Emma and Regina inside and made themselves comfortable in the living room.

“So do you have any idea where he might be?” David asked.

“We talked to Mr. Gold,” said Emma. “He thinks he might know.”

Snow let out a little gasp and hugged her pregnant stomach protectively. “You can’t trust him!”

“Well, he’ll certainly be more help than either of you,” Regina quipped. “A pregnant woman and a squib. What exactly do you think you’re going to do?”

That earned her two pathetic attempts at death-glares, which really just made them look like petulant children.

“Just don’t get in the way,” Regina said with a sigh.

* * *

 

A few minutes later, Rumplestiltskin arrived. Ignoring Snow and David’s skeptical glances, Regina let him in and got right down to business.

“All right, Rumple,” she said. “Who is this Malcolm Gold, and where can we find him?”

“Now for that, you’re going to have to trust me,” said Rumple with a smirk.

* * *

 

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?”

Rumple scowled. “Getting in won’t be the problem, Ms. Swan. There’s a simple password. Lucky for you, I know it.”

“It just looks … ordinary,” said David, glancing around warily. It was true. There had never been a more ordinary street. “How do we know you haven’t brought us straight into a trap?”

“Oh, it’s a trap, certainly,” said Rumple, taking a cautious step forward. “Just not one of my making. Be careful.” Then he held up his hand. “Quiet. Someone’s here.”

He turned sharply and drew his wand. Regina and Snow did the same – earning the former a shocked glance from the later – but Emma hesitated.

“Could be a muggle,” she whispered.

“Here? Don’t count on it,” said Rumple.

“Whoever’s there, come out,” said Regina. “Now.”

A small, dark-haired girl stepped out of the shadows.

“Belle,” Rumple whispered, lowering his wand. “What are you doing here?”

She took another step toward them. “I followed you. I couldn’t just sit there at home, waiting for to see if you would come back. I had to be here with you. To help you.”

He shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere. Let’s do this together.”

Rumple looked like he was going to protest again, but Emma cut in: “We really don’t have time to stand here arguing.”

“She’s right,” said Regina. “My son is in danger, and every moment that we waste is a moment we’re not spending saving him. Let’s go.”

Rumple approached the brick wall of a nearby building and drew his wand. He spoke in a gruff voice, spitting out the words like poison.

“Second star to the right, and straight on ‘til morning”.

The wall dissolved before them, revealing a hidden world right there in the middle of London’s most ordinary street.


	10. Chapter 10

The first thing Regina noticed was the giant hourglass. It towered over the hidden street, with glittering sand sifting through it. The sand had almost run out, and she glanced at it warily, unsure whether that was a good thing or a very bad thing.

Drawing her gaze away from the hourglass, she took a cautious step forward and looked up and down the street. Unlike the city behind them, what lay before them was a dark alleyway lined with vacant shops, their windows smashed and their doors hanging open. The sky shone with stars, far brighter than they were in the rest of London. A couple of children, mostly boys near Henry’s age, lingered in doorways, but there wasn’t a single adult in sight. Henry sat on the ground, resting his chin on his hand, just below the hourglass. He stood up and tried to run to them, but another boy blocked his path and said something that Regina couldn’t hear. Rumple grabbed her by the elbow and held her back.

“Careful,” he whispered. “It’s a trap.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Regina snapped, failing to keep her voice down.

But Emma was paying more attention to the teenage boy who stared back at them from across the street. Her eyes widened with recognition.

“That’s him,” she said, pointing at the boy. “Malcolm Gold. He fits the description exactly.”

The boy came towards them, with a careless swagger that didn’t betray one bit of fear.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, laddie,” he said, turning his attention to Rumple and ignoring the others. “What, did you get homesick? Well, you’re welcome to stay, just as long as you don’t interfere with my plans. You see, that would make you my enemy, and then … well, then I’d have to kill you.”

Rumple glared back at him, tightening his grip on his cane. Regina had known him long enough to recognize his fear, but anyone else would have missed it. “You just try.”

“Oh, indeed I shall,” said the boy – Peter Pan, Malcolm Gold, whatever his name was. “Your method of achieving immortality is far from foolproof. A bit of basilisk venom, or perhaps fiendfyre. Or maybe I’ll find you a fate worse than death. What if I were to kill you, and let the piece of your soul that lives within that dagger be the only thing left? You’d suffer for eternity.”

Rumple was definitely afraid now, and Regina couldn’t help being grateful that she herself had never pushed the boundaries of dark magic quite so far. She had never had any reason to. Her descent into evil had been about revenge, whereas Rumple … Rumple was afraid. Afraid of dying, afraid of being powerless, afraid of his own prophecies, and afraid of never finding his son again. She didn’t think she had any right to judge – after all, she was guilty of murder herself – but the thought the dagger still made her feel sick.

“Oh, where are my manners?” Peter Pan said, breaking off Regina’s train of thought. “You’re here for your son, aren’t you? Not their son,” he added, gesturing to Emma and Regina. “You wouldn’t have come here for his sake. You’re looking for Baelfire, and who am I to disappoint you?”

As he gestured, a boy a bit older than him stepped out of the shadows, holding a knife to the throat of a grown man. Emma’s jaw dropped when she saw him.

“Neal?”

“Emma,” he gasped. “I’m sorry, I …”

“One of our agents caught him trying to follow her,” said Malcolm Gold, speaking over whatever Neal might have wanted to say. “I thought it would only be right to have him there for the family reunion. After all, we are, what, four generations of the same family?”

Rumple’s brow furrowed with confusion, while Emma groaned. The pieces fell into place in Regina’s mind: the son Rumple had spent so many years searching for and Henry’s father who Emma had refused to speak of were in fact the same person. And if there were four generations …

“How old are you, exactly?” she asked the deceptively young-looking boy.

“Old enough to be a great-grandfather,” he replied.

Henry had sat back down beside the giant hourglass, but he watched them carefully, with narrowed eyes. As she met her son’s gaze, Regina had had enough.

“Give Henry back,” she demanded, pointing the wand in her hand at Peter Pan. “And I might allow you to live.”

Over the years, Regina had gotten used being seen as intimidating. She was certainly still feared in the magical world, and although her muggle neighbors weren’t aware of her past, they had learned that she was not someone to be trifled with. But the abnormally young boy just laughed.

“You haven’t killed anyone in years,” he said. “Could you even do it anymore? Unforgivables don’t come easily.”

His taunts just made Regina’s blood pound with anger. Throwing caution to the wind, she raised her wand.

“ _Ava-!_ ”

“NO!” Three voices called out in unison. Regina lowered her wand and turned to glare at Rumple.

“Them, I can understand, but you?” she said with a huff. “Surely you understand what needs to be done.”

Rumple shook his head and pointed to the hourglass, where the last bits of sand were trickling out. For a moment, Peter Pan quivered. She could see traces of wrinkles appearing on his face, and streaks of gray in his hair. Then he laughed, his youthful appearance was restored. From behind him came a thud as the teenage boy holding Neal hostage collapsed, dead. He scrambled away, while Regina looked in shock from the wand in her hand to the body on the ground. How …?

Then she saw the hourglass. Within it the sands were swirling, rising up into the upper half.

“That’s how he maintains his youth,” Rumple explained. “By draining the lives of others each time he comes close to death, by old age or … otherwise. It’s darker magic even than mine.”

“And better!” Peter Pan boasted, still practically glowing with energy. “Elixir of life or a horcrux could keep me alive, but only this can make me truly invulnerable – and more importantly, young forever. You think horcruxes are dark magic? You don’t even want to know what I did to create my hourglass. Nothing like this has ever been done before.”

Regina didn’t deign that with a response. Instead, she turned her attention to the hourglass, trying to determine what kind of magic it was. Was it safe to destroy it? Was that even possible? Was it something like a horcrux, altered in some way to do more than simply contain part of the soul, or was it something else altogether?

One thing was for sure. She wouldn’t be casting any more killing curses today. No more children deserved to die so that Peter Pan – what an absurdly appropriate name! – could save himself. Instead, she shot a stunning spell at the man in a child’s body. He blocked her as casually as if he was flicking away a gnat.

Nearby, a couple of the other boys were drawing their wands.

“You really want to fight for this guy?” Emma asked them. “He kidnapped you – he’s using you!”

A small boy even younger than Henry spoke up: “If we do what Pan says, he lets us live. Usually.”

Pan’s face broke into an evil grin. “What would Peter Pan be without his Lost Boys?”

Regina saw the pain on Emma’s face when he said that. Belle’s eyes were wide with horror, Snow looked aghast, and David … well, David looked like he was about to attack someone with his bare hands. Regina could tell herself she was only here for Henry, but even she cringed. How did a grown man become so desperate to be a child that he would rob kids of their innocence and, eventually, their lives?

That wasn’t worth thinking about. She exchanged a glance with Emma, and the two shot stunning spells in unison. A couple of the “Lost Boys” dropped to the ground, unconscious, but it wasn’t enough. They were outnumbered too badly.

“Aim for the hourglass,” she hissed. Turning her wand on it, she screamed out a “ _Reducto_!” that bounced harmlessly off the glass. But four more jets of light joined hers, and she could see cracks begin to appear. They kept on casting their spells until the cracks grew and the glass shattered. The “Lost Boys” scattered, diving out of the way as shards of glass and sand spilled out over the street. Henry ran straight into his mothers’ arms, and they caught him in a three-way embrace, holding onto each other as if their lives depended on it. Peter Pan fell to the ground, slowly aging from a teenager into a middle-aged man, gasping for breath among the shards of the broken hourglass. But he reached for his wand and jabbed it in the air, and Belle let out a gasp, grabbing at her throat as if she was choking.

“Let her go,” Rumple snarled.

“Oh, would you rather I killed your son? Or your grand-”

Regina held Henry closer and raised her wand, but Peter Pan didn’t finish his sentence. As the last pieces of the hourglass fell to the ground, his hair turned gray and his skin sagged and wrinkled. He dropped his wand and stared down at his hands in horror. A moment later, he was dead.


	11. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, this is where it ends. I hope you enjoyed it - I know I did :)

Rumple ran his fingers over the flat side of the dagger, staring blankly into space.

“I still can’t believe you made that … that thing,” Neal said. His eyes were full of resentment.

“I know,” Rumple murmured. “But you have to understand, I’m a coward. I always have been. I should never have let you go.”

“Who did you kill?” Neal asked, grimacing as he pushed the words out.

“An old man called Zoso. He goaded me into it, and once it was done … well, I used the murder to keep myself alive. I was wrong to do that. I see that now.”

A slender hand intertwined with his. Belle smiled up at him.

“There’s still hope,” she said. “I’ve done a lot of reading, and it is possible to put your soul back together. It won’t be easy, but …”

“It would kill me,” he said quietly. “The pain of it would kill me. Perhaps that’s what the prophecy meant.”

“I think you should try,” said Neal. “Stop running from what you’ve done. Face it.”

And Rumple knew, if it was what his son wanted, he would try. Perhaps he would even succeed.

* * *

 

A few days later, Regina sat at the table eating lunch with Henry, when a knock on the door startled her into dropping her fork. She turned to her son, taking one last look at him. Everything she had done – it was all worth it if it meant he was here, alive and safe.

That didn’t change the fact that ever since they rescued him, she had been on edge, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

When she opened the door, the other shoe dropped.

“Emma.” Her voice was a whisper as she stared back at the other woman. She forced herself not to react, to stay calm and dignified. “I suppose you’re here to arrest me.”

Emma’s lips twitched. “For what? Saving the world? If I was going to arrest you, I would have done it already. I came here to give you this.”

She held out a roll of parchment. Regina couldn’t quite keep her hands steady as she unrolled it and read what it said. She looked up in astonishment.

“A pardon?”

“Don’t act so surprised. You just saved the lives of a dozen children and brought down one of the Ministry’s most wanted criminals.”

Regina raised an eyebrow. Emma sighed.

“Okay, okay. Snow pulled a few strings. She has … well, a lot more influence than you might think.”

“She’s Leopold White’s daughter. Of course she has influence,” said Regina. Ordinarily, she would complain about the Ministry and it’s corruption, its tendency to judge people’s worth based on their surname and blood status, and the fact that this was proof that a few words from the right – or wrong – person could set a truly dangerous criminal free or put an innocent behind bars. After all, even during their rescue mission, she had tried to use an unforgivable curse. Any number of witnesses could attest to that.

But it didn’t seem like the time or the place to quibble over politics.

“I suppose I should thank you,” she said. “And Snow. Tell her I said –”

“Tell her yourself,” said Emma. “We’re going to meet at the Leaky Cauldron in an hour, and you’re invited.”

Regina scoffed at that. “Ms. Swan, Henry and I are in the middle of lunch.”

“Well, you’ve got an hour,” said Emma. “Don’t be late.”

* * *

 

If anyone had told Regina a few months ago that she would be walking down Diagon Alley with Snow White, David Nolan, Emma Swan, and the son they shared, she would have told them to check themselves in to the psychiatric ward at Saint Mungo’s. And yet here she was, smiling, feeling the happiest she had in years, hand-in-hand with her lover-turned-archenemy-turned-friend-turned-lover-again.

Wow. Things certainly were complicated between them, weren’t they? But no more complicated than the new Daily Prophet headline: “INFAMOUS CRIMINAL REGINA MILLS’ HEROIC ACTIONS EARN PARDON”. More than one pair of eyes followed her as she walked down the street with her strange little family, but in that moment, none of them mattered. The only people who felt real to her were the ones who stood beside her.

“You should buy a new wand,” Snow said. “You can do that now.”

Regina found that she was less eager than she expected to re-enter the magical world, but a wand? That was certainly something she wouldn’t say no to. As she walked into Ollivander’s, she felt like a little girl walking up to the sorting hat again. Emma and the others waited outside, although she knew that they would have followed her into the shop if she hadn’t hissed at them to let her do this alone. As she walked tentatively towards the counter, an old man with white hair emerged from behind the many shelves of wands.

“I wondered when I would be seeing you again, Ms. Mills,” he said. “Apple and unicorn hair, 9 inches, slightly springy. Am I right?”

Regina nodded, surprised by how well he remembered.

“They’ll have destroyed it, though?”

Again, she gave a nod. “That’s why I’m here.”

He smiled and pulled out a wand for her to try, made out of apple, just like her old one. But she had only held it for a moment before she cringed and put it down.

“I feel as if it’s judging me,” she said.

He nodded. “I suspected as much. Apple wands don’t mesh well with dark magic. You aren’t the same person you were at age eleven.”

The next wand he gave her was cypress, and she liked the way that it felt in her hand, but when she gave it a wave, it sent an entire shelf of wands crashing down. He frowned and peered at her curiously.

“I thought … cypress wands favor the brave, those who would willingly lay down their lives if necessary. But combined with dragon heartstring … it’s a potent combination. Perhaps it would only bring out your destructive side. Let me see …”

His eyes lit up. He reached for another wand and placed it in her hand. The moment she held it she knew, and clearly Ollivander did, too. The warm glow that came over her was very much like what she had felt the first time she had held her old apple wand.

“Blackthorn and phoenix feather,” said Ollivander, smiling. “The wand of a warrior. And, I would say, the wand of a resilient heart. The blackthorn bush bears the sweetest berries after the harshest winters, and guards them fiercely with its thorns. I would say the same is true of you, Ms. Mills.”

* * *

 

“So, what now?” Snow asked, peering at Regina from across the table at the Leaky Cauldron.

“Well …” Regina shrugged. “I suppose nothing has really changed.”

“Don’t say that,” said Emma, shaking her head. “Everything has changed. Everything.”

Beneath the table, she reached for Regina’s hand. Something about the gesture felt … right. And yet terrifying at the same time, because here they were in public, and anyone around them could be a gossip writer for the Daily Prophet, and as much as Regina wanted to move forward in her relationship with Emma, she didn’t want to do it under the scrutiny of thousands of spectators.

“I know you have a life now, in the muggle world,” said Snow. “And that’s what you wanted all along, isn’t it?”

Regina nodded thoughtfully. She wondered if the Ministry had known, when they banished her, that what might have been a fate worse than death to some wizards and witches was exactly what she had dreamed of as a wide-eyed teenager, listening to Daniel’s stories about electricity and ballpoint pens. The real punishment had been losing Henry, if only temporarily.

“But if you did want to come back, I have an idea.”

Regina raised an eyebrow, silently prompting her to continue.

“We’re still looking for a muggle studies teacher at Hogwarts.”

Regina let out a sharp laugh. “You can’t be serious.” But Snow clearly was. Emma smiled, and even David was looking at her expectantly.

“I don’t even have an OWL in muggle studies,” said Regina. “My mother would never have let me …”

“Regina, you lived in the muggle world for the past twelve years,” said Emma. “I’m pretty sure you’re qualified.”

“Yes, well …” she had to admit that was true, but it didn’t change the fact that ...

“I’m a murderer,” she said. “I may have been pardoned, but that doesn’t change the fact that no parent will want me anywhere near their children.”

Snow sighed, and Emma shook her head. Giving Regina’s hand a squeeze, she said, “I think you might be surprised. You did just save a bunch of kidnapped kids, and Malcolm Gold may be dead, but what happened has reminded a lot of people just how important their kids’ safety is. And some of his cronies are still out there. Neal’s fiancée – well, his ex now – and probably others. We don’t know how dangerous they might be. In fact, we’re sending Aurors to guard the castle, just in case.”

“What she’s trying to say,” said Snow, “is that a lot of people would feel better, knowing that the woman who defeated Peter Pan is on our side. That’s what Headmaster Midas said, anyway, when I talked to him about it.”

Regina didn’t reply. Too many conflicting thoughts were battling for dominance in her head.

“You should do it, Mom,” Henry told her, looking up at her with big, hopeful eyes.

“At least say you’ll think about it,” said Snow.

Regina nodded. That, she could agree too. She took another sip of butterbeer, her fingers still intertwined with Emma’s under the table. Then, with a sharp gasp, Snow grabbed David’s arm and clutched at her stomach with her other hand.

“Snow?” he said in a worried tone. “Are you okay?”

“The baby’s coming.”

* * *

 

The baby was a healthy little girl who Snow held in her arms and rocked gently back and forth. She looked up at David, who stood beside her, bending down to see the baby.

“Emma,” Snow whispered. “Our baby. Emma.”

It was as if she couldn’t quite get out a whole sentence, but David understood what she meant. The thought was like a punch in the gut. He had been hoping for a boy, to prove the prophecy wrong.

“Snow, we don’t have to …”

“We have to tell her,” she said, cutting him off. “No matter what we decide. She has to know.”

He nodded. Of course. It was Emma’s life, and she had a right to know, after all this time, who her parents were. Or might be. Whatever tense the confusion of time travel required.

* * *

 

“Do you remember the prophecy?” Snow asked. She smiled at Emma, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. Emma shrugged.

“All I asked was the baby’s name,” she said. “What, is it in the prophecy or something?”

“Just answer the question.”

“All right,” said Emma, nodding. She could play along. “ _There will be two: a reluctant savior and a queen by name, one surrounded by darkness and another who brings hope. They will fight, and both will fall, but belief will bring them together. Turn back the hourglass when the time is right, but in the end, the hourglass will shatter_.”

Snow’s smile wavered as Emma recited the familiar prophecy. New pieces fell into place in Emma’s mind. Belief – that was Henry! Before, she had thought of the line as a cruel jab at what they had been to each other before, but now she saw that it was Henry and his extraordinary belief that had brought them back together again. And the hourglass shattering had to mean Pan’s hourglass, not the one she had hidden in the sock drawer back at her apartment.

“Turn back the hourglass when the time is right,” said Snow. “I know you’ve wondered who your parents were, and why they would give you up. Did you ever think that maybe they knew about the prophecy? That maybe it was the only way?”

Snow’s voice trembled as she spoke. Emma stared at her, wide-eyed. Then, her eyes drifted to the newborn baby in Snow’s arms.

“You’re not saying …”

Snow nodded. “I’m sorry. I’m your mother. At least, that's what Rumplestiltskin said.”

Emma sat down beside Snow’s hospital bed. She could barely process the information. Snow and David were her parents. If it wasn’t for Rumple and his stupid prophecy, she could have grown up loved and wanted. Happy. But …

“You’re going to send me back, aren’t you?”

Snow didn’t answer. Emma could see an answer in her face, and as tempting as it was, it wasn’t possible.

“You have to,” said Emma. “It’s the only way. It’s what’s best for everyone.” Because of course that was what mattered. A little voice inside Emma’s head asked why she was always the one who had to suffer in order to be everyone else’s savior. But she ignored that voice.

“I know,” said Snow, her face crumpling. “But I wish …”

Emma nodded. She wished, too. But then a thought occurred to her, and in spite of it all, she had to smile.

“Henry wouldn’t have been born, if you hadn’t sent me back in time,” she said. It was worth it for his sake, no matter what. “Hell, maybe I wouldn’t have been born. Maybe Regina would have killed you both a decade ago. And I did find a family, eventually – one that wouldn’t exist otherwise.”

“I’ve always hated your parents,” Snow muttered, seemingly ignoring what Emma had said. “I didn’t see how they could abandon you, even if it was for the greater good.”

“But you have to,” Emma told her.

“Can you forgive me?”

Emma nodded and let her mother hug her. It was an awkward hug, and Emma wasn’t much of a hugging person to begin with, but it wasn’t bad, really.

As she turned and walked out of the room, she tried to ignore the tears trickling down her face.

* * *

 

Late that night, Emma turned up on Regina’s doorstep in tears.

“Snow and David are my parents,” she said, choking on the words. Regina’s eyes widened, and she stepped aside for Emma to come in.

“Henry’s asleep,” she cautioned. “Can I get you anything? Cider?”

“I’d ask if you have anything stronger,” said Emma. “But your cider is plenty strong.”

Regina slipped out of the room and returned to find that Emma had made herself comfortable on the couch. Regina sat down beside her and poured them two glasses of apple cider.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know this can’t be easy for you.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Emma asked. “It’s not your fault.”

Regina shook her head. As if she would give an empty apology, knowing perfectly well how useless they could be. “It is. You were sent back in time because of me – because of the prophecy about us.”

“But it was my choice, in the end,” said Emma. “She didn’t want to do it. I could have asked her and she would change her mind, but it would have created a paradox, and people would have suffered …”

“You did the right thing,” said Regina, scooting a little closer and wrapping her arm around Emma. “Of course you did. You’re … unbelievably selfless.”

Emma shook her head.

“Oh?” asked Regina. “You don’t think so?”

“I did it for us,” said Emma. “Not because of paradoxes or being the Savior.” She spat the word out in disgust. “We wouldn’t be together, and we definitely wouldn’t have Henry. That’s why. I don’t want to be happy without either of you. So why does it hurt so much?”

Regina kissed Emma gently on the lips. When they parted, she said, “It’s okay that it hurts. Of course it does. But now we move forward.”

Emma smiled in spite of her tears. “I want that. To move forward. Together.”

“So do I.”

“Are you going to take the job?”

“Muggle studies? Probably,” Regina admitted. “Henry wants me to, and being able to see him and be there for him … I can’t say no to that. And besides, wizards could use some perspective on the muggle world.”

Emma smiled. “I hoped you would. You remember I said we were sending Aurors to guard the castle?”

Regina nodded.

“I’ve volunteered to go. With Henry there … I couldn’t leave his safety in other people’s hands. So I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

Regina smiled and kissed her again. Her hands tangled in Emma’s long blonde hair, and their lips crashed together with an insatiable hunger. She felt the other woman’s tongue push its way into her mouth. It was all so familiar, and yet so new at the same time, and she realized she never wanted it to end.

“I love you,” she whispered into Emma’s ear. For a moment, her heart pounded, and terror raced through her. What if Emma didn’t feel the same? But then she smiled.

“I love you, too,” Emma said. “I always have.”

“This is good, isn’t it?” Regina asked, not quite sure why she needed the affirmation but sure that she did. “Everything we’ve been through, both of us. This is worth it – for us, for Henry.”

“It is,” Emma agreed. “It definitely is.”

“So, what house do you think he’ll be in?” Regina asked with a playful smile. “I’ll bet you three sickles he’s a Ravenclaw.”

Emma laughed. All signs of tears had vanished. “Not a chance! The kid’s a Gryffindor through and through.”

“Then you’ll take the bet?” Regina asked.

“Sure, why not?” said Emma. “Maybe we’ll both be wrong. Maybe he's a Slytherin. Or a Hufflepuff.”

“I just want him to be happy, whatever house he’s in,” said Regina.

Emma nodded in agreement, leaning back and taking another sip of apple cider. She smiled at Regina. One thing Regina was sure of: everything was about to change. But hopefully, that change would be for the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, just a quick note about the Ollivader's section: all the descriptions of wand woods (apple not mixing with dark magic, etc) come from Pottermore.


End file.
